


Everything Is Okay

by samoosifer



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Gallavich, Ian x Mickey - Freeform, M/M, mickey x ian - Freeform, police officer mickey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 08:03:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3320087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samoosifer/pseuds/samoosifer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gallavich AU inspired by this post: http://shioribatch.tumblr.com/post/94462642685/shameless-us-au-where-ian-enlisted-after-mickeys</p>
<p>Give that post a look and keep in your head the way they look at stuff because I wrote this during my breaks at work so it's pretty shit and isn't very descriptive. It's more just me writing down what physically happens. Credit to shioribatch.tumblr.com for the idea. </p>
<p>Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters (except for Jeff but w/e) and this is a work of fiction so pls dont sue</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything Is Okay

"Mickey you fucking suck." Jeff sighed through the phone.

"Hey, I don't have to do this you know. You can get off your ass and drive across town if you want. I'm not even fucking on duty man."

"Okay okay. Does it have to be a blind date though?"

"You said you'll do anything." Mickey said as he turned his car onto Main Street. Up ahead he could see the car crashed into the fire hydrant. It was three in the morning and nobody was in sight. 

"Can't it just be a date? Tell me what they look like? Give me a Facebook or something?" Jeff pleaded.

"I'm here now so I'll catch you later. Give me a day that you're free. Bye!" Mickey hung up on his protests, grinning as he pulled the car over opposite the crashed one. 

Mickey got out, grabbing his gun from the glovebox for caution, and went over to investigate. The drivers window was smashed in which could have been from the crash but was most likely because it was stolen. The floor and seats were littered with cigarette butts, empty beer cans and one used needle. Mickey had seen enough. He needed to find this dude. He pulled his head out and looked around. The buildings surrounding him were all office buildings with their lights out except for one light on the third floor of a law firm. Mickey took it as his best bet and headed over, his hand on his gun. He peered through the door of the building but almost fell over when it pushed open. Bingo. 

Mickey walked softly on the dark carpet towards the lift. The doors dinged open and he stepped inside. He pressed the button and started questioning his life choices and how he managed to be up at three in the morning, on the other side of town to his apartment, in the lift of a law firm with an ad for Spotify playing quietly from somewhere. The doors dinged open again and he stepped out, doing his best not to get the stupid tune from the ad in his head but failing. Up ahead was a window out onto the street and next to it, a door with light spilling out through a small crack. Mickey crept up the hall and pulled his gun out from the back of his jeans. He pushed the door open wide and surveyed the room. Everything seemed normal. Desks lined up with computers and chairs. Window's covering one wall, printers and a coffee machine on the other. Nothing was trashed or burning and there was no one in sight until someone tall and skinny stepped out from behind one of the pillars and aimed a gun at Mickey. 

Mickey's gun instinctively flew up in front of him in defense.

"I don't want to hurt you. Please just leave me alone." The guy sniffed, seeming to decide that Mickey was some office worker who for some reason was working at three in the morning with a gun. Mickey took a couple of steps forward to see he had been crying which called for a more gentle approach.

"Are you okay?" Mickey asked hesitantly. This guy needed help. Badly, "Are you hurt?"

"Please just go away." He sobbed, dropping his gun to his side and turning away.

Mickey lowered his gun and stared at him, almost dropping his gun entirely because who could forget that frame and that walk and that _hair_. Nobody could forget Ian Gallagher. 

It had been three years since Mickey had seen Ian. Three years since all he could manage was a measly 'don't' as the love of his life walked out the door. Three years since his asshole of a father had fucked up and run off with the woman he forced Mickey to marry on the same fucking day that Ian left. 

"Wait. I wanna help. Let me help you." Mickey took a few more steps forward as Ian started limping towards a door on the other side of the room that Mickey hadn't noticed. Shit.

"I'm beyond help."

"You're from Chicago right?" Mickey asked, trying to gauge just how fucked up Ian was. Where the boundaries were. If Mickey fucked this up Ian would leave or maybe even shoot Mickey. 

"What does it matter?" Ian sighed loudly, reaching the door.

"Ian, wait!" Mickey blurted before he could stop himself.

Ian stopped and turned around, hand still on the door handle, "How do you know my name?"

"Uh- license in the car." Mickey lied. 

"Oh." Ian turned back around and started to open the door.

"Ian if you leave me again I will shoot you in the leg." Mickey was going completely against protocol, breaking so many rules and completely disregarding his training. But that was the thing, they don't train you for if your ex shows up in an office building at three in the morning out of their mind. They don't tell you what to do when you see them and realise that you never got over them and you still love them with every ounce of your being. 

Ian stopped again to look at Mickey, "Again? What do you mean?"

"I- It doesn't matter just please come sit down and let me help you. Sit down and we can talk." Mickey was slowly inching forward. It was then that Mickey realised there was no way that Ian would recognise him. His hair was white blonde and he wasn't as dirty as usual. He had nice clothes on from his dinner with the guys from work. 

"How can you help me? I told you I'm beyond help." Ian sniveled and went to sit down at one of the desks despite his disbelief that Mickey could help him.

Mickey cheered inside and went to sit down next to him, putting his gun in the back of his jeans, "Well for starters I can take a look at your leg. Make sure you're okay. And in the long run I could maybe help you get clean? Make sure there are no charges against you. Give you a shower?"

"You're a cop?" Ian asked, sticking his leg out and looking anywhere but at Mickey.

"Yeah. So you know I can help you. Where does it hurt?" Mickey asked gently.

Ian looked down at Mickey, "It's from when I stuck the needle in. I didn't do it right." Ian moved his leg from Mickey's reach and looked down at his chest. At his badge and his I.D.. His eyes went wide and he jumped up and away from him, "Mickey?!"

Mickey jumped up as Ian started backing away, "Ian wait- don't go." He said desperately, "I wanna help."

"You can't help me! It's because of you I'm like this! You broke me! You fucking ruined my life!" Ian cried.

"No! I- I didn't mean- You don't understand what it's like living with Terry Milkovich as your father. Ian please wait!" Mickey kept walking towards Ian who was backing up more and more.

"Fuck you!" Ian screamed wildly. He raised his gun and pointed it at Mickey, "I should fucking do it. Ruin your life like you did mine."

Mickey immediately grabbed his gun out of habit and brought it shakily up in front of him. This wasn't the first time someone had threatened to shoot him. This was the first time however that Ian had threatened to shoot him. 

"Ian you know that wouldn't solve your problems. Let me help you. Please." Mickey started crying, tears welling up in his eyes. 

"No! I'm past the point of return. I'm fucking beyond help. There is no hope for me. What the fuck is the point anymore?" Ian said slowly. 

Mickey could practically see the cogs in Ian's mind turning as he came to the decision that brought his gun up to his temple. Even from ten feet away Mickey could see how much he was shaking, could see the glean of sweat across Ian's forehead, "Ian please don't. You- you're high. You don't know what you're thinking. Listen, do you remember Svetlana? The one that Terry got to rape me?" Mickey asked, doing his best to ignore all the feelings the memories were bringing up. 

"Don't think anyone could forget seeing that." Ian's gun was still against his head but he was listening. That was all that Mickey needed. Even though he had only been a cop for two years, he seemed to have experienced a lot more than a normal cop would in ten years according to his co-workers. Then again, he wasn't normal in any way. 

"Her baby wasn't mine. It was Terry's. The same day that you left, Terry fucked some scam up badly and took off with her. They skipped town. For a month I stayed there, rotting away. I almost killed myself because I thought there was no hope for me. But I thought of you every day and how you left a shitty situation and did something for yourself. So I did the same. I got out. I came here and got myself this job. There is fucking hope for you. Just let me help you. Please." 

Ian stared at Mickey for a moment before slowly lowering the gun, letting it clatter to the ground at his feet. Mickey let out a shaky sigh of relief and put his gun away. He walked over to Ian and after a moments hesitation, he held his arms out and pulled Ian into a hug. Ian broke down into tears and clung to Mickey, holding on for dear life. Mickey started crying as well but through it all, he couldn't help but smile. He had his Ian back. And yeah it was gonna be fucking shitty and difficult but in the long run, everything was okay.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry if you read this all the way through bc its pretty shit I kinda just needed to get it off my chest ja feel?
> 
> Thanks for reading I guess <3


End file.
